THE cycling track at Stratford is crafted from the finest Siberian pine and the spirit of these London Olympics will forever now be characterised by a mountain of Scottish muscle.

Sir Chris Hoy stands this morning as a sporting giant hewn from the granite of the Games, defined by his ability to deliver under Himalayan expectation, as Britain’s greatest Olympian.

His astonishing, nerveless, peerless performance in the keirin final yesterday captivated a nation as his unerring instinct to perform under the most exacting pressure was celebrated the length and breadth of Britain.

For an athlete to win Olympic gold once takes dedication and determination. For Hoy to win the most coveted medal in his sport six times in four cycling events since 2004 reflects greatness few can match and none can manufacture.

Superhuman? In a sporting sense, for sure. But he proved he is worth even more as a man as he gave way to his emotions before stepping up to the podium and the tears fell like rain.

His Herculean achievements were lauded nowhere more loudly than in this magnificent arena, built at a cost of £20million and to the same exacting standards British cycling’s performance director Dave Brailsford has come to expect from his brilliant athletes.

Hoy revels in his win

The temperature is held at a constant 28 degrees to draw maximum performance from cyclists but as Hoy crossed the line a wheel in front of German rival Max Levy the Niagara of fevered noise that followed took the mercury above boiling point.

It is now officially the noisiest venue at the Olympics as the volume of sound created by a capacity 6000 crowd approached 140 decibels, the equivalent of a firework display, an aircraft taking flight or a gunshot going off in an ear.

They were not half wrong and as Hoy spun around the 250-metre track on multiple laps of honour, his fist punching powerfully into the muggy air, you could only hazard a guess at the cacophony going off in his own head.

Over the rails his dad David and mum Carol waved the family’s trusty and lucky old banner, declaring their boy the Real McHoy, while his wife Sarra, sister-in-law Carrie, husband Garry and their two kids waved their own flags wishing good luck to Uncle Chris.

In truth, good fortune had nothing to do with the achievements of Hoy, who finally dismounted his bike after cycling staff had formed a guard of honour and lifted him in the air before he was embraced by Sir Steve Redgrave, whose record number of Olympic golds he first matched and has now surpassed over these past five, adrenalin-packed days.

It fell to a fellow Scot and knight of the realm, IOC vice-president Sir Craig Reedie, to place more bullion round his neck. The only time you see Hoy drop his head in public is when honours are being bestowed.

Afterwards, he reflected on the race and the Games themselves and admitted they have shown the best of sport to the British public in their ability to inspire and lift our eyes to the skies and away from the humdrum.

He said: “It’s the end, my last Olympics, and my feelings are those of relief and delight.

“I shut my eyes towards the end of the race and lunged for the line and didn’t want to look or check where I’d finished. I heard a massive roar and hoped it was for me.

“This has just been such an amazing party, the crowds have been so passionate. It’s nice to bring a bit of sunshine and happiness into the lives of people after all the doom and gloom about issues such as the economy.

“You know, watching these Olympics I’ve been just like any sports fan – it has been on the telly in my apartment day in and day out and all I’ve missed are a beer and a bowl of crisps.

“But then you look out the window and you’re on the ninth floor of the athletes’ village and the crowd are walking around below and the Olympic torch is there and you think, ‘Wow, we’re part of it all’. It has been a fun and friendly Games and even if I hadn’t been a success it would have been worth the four years of hard work alone just to carry the flag at the opening ceremony.”

Those of us who ever doubted the ability of Hoy, now 36, to deliver at these Games were made to look as daft as the wonderful crackpot who starts off this madcap keirin event, riding all in black like Dick Dastardly trying to escape Penelope Pitstop and the Anthill Mob in Wacky Races.

Hoy, who was almost squeezed out of gold at the World Championships in March, kept a steady nerve on the first five of nine laps, sitting comfortably in third behind Levy and Aussie Shane Perkins, poised to strike.

In the end, it was Kiwi Simon van Velthooven who broke for home with four laps to go and held the line until Hoy, 500 metres from the finish, made his move.

He powered ahead but in the last lap looked to have been caught on the back straight by Levy. However, in this sport of inches and split seconds, Hoy struck back in the final 75 metres to hold off the German, with van Velthooven and Dutchman Teun Mulder tieing for bronze.

Hoy added: “Max was coming with a helluva lot of speed and he almost got past me. If he had managed it and shut me down I would have been nowhere – second or third.

“I knew if I dug deep and I kept him on the outside of me there was a chance I might have been able to hang on in there. I gave every last effort. All the gym, sessions, all the interval sessions, all the track sessions got me through the last 50.

“For a split second I thought it was over but split-second decisions make all the difference at this level.”

It may have been only 2250 metres long but it’s a race that will last a lifetime in British sporting memory. Now we can dream of seeing him in Glasgow at the Commonwealth Games in 2014.